


Eyes On Me

by fraldariuwus (sakesword)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Creampie, During Canon, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Kissing, Love, Making Out, One Shot, Operas, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Romance, Sexual Content, Singing, Smut, Tsunderes, Vaginal Sex, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:07:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23389267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakesword/pseuds/fraldariuwus
Summary: When Dorothea invited Felix to a small opera she, Manuela, and Ferdinand put on at the monastery's Cathedral, she never expected their post-performance teatime would proceed any differently than those of the past.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 24
Kudos: 132





	Eyes On Me

**Author's Note:**

> Dorothea & Felix… what can I say? I was initially inspired by my friend’s [comic](https://twitter.com/flocon_nunu/status/1235378377764331520) but this quickly took on a life of its own.
> 
> Takes place after their A+ support, probably Blue Lions Route, because Crimson Flower Felix is something else.
> 
> Google tells me “Toi, toi, toi,” is what opera performers say instead of “break a leg.”
> 
> This fic has inspired [art](https://twitter.com/flocon_nunu/status/1252763133556506624) now! The dorolix positive feedback loop continues <3

“Positions everyone,” Manuela instructs the cast before turning to Dorothea, “I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you, but you’re on first.” Dorothea sits backstage, screwing in the backing to a dramatic silver earring. There’s not much time before the opening act, but she must smooth out any unsightly wrinkles on her costume, must tuck in the errant curl that has fallen out of her updo, must be _ perfect. _ Even if she really isn’t.

The elegant heels she’s wearing clack against the wooden slats of the makeshift stage they’ve erected in the Cathedral as Dorothea takes her place center stage. Methodical inhales and exhales serve not only to prime her voice, but also to ease the unavoidable nervousness to which even a professional diva is susceptible. Though this performance is nothing compared to those of the glory days of the Mittelfrank Opera Company, there’s something, the appearance of  _ someone _ , increasing the pressure Dorothea is under tonight.  _ Is Felix actually going to be in attendance? _

Lost in her own thoughts, Dorothea doesn’t even notice Manuela’s approach until she feels the warmth of her mentor’s hand graze over her shoulder, “Toi toi toi.” 

Dorothea smiles to herself, Manuela’s well wishes are more calming than any breath exercise. She’s as ready as she’ll ever be.

“Thank you all for coming.” Manuela’s voice sounds from beyond the curtain, “We’ve composed this abridged version of  _ Loog and the Maiden of the Wind _ , starring Ferdinand von Aegir, myself, and… Dorothea Arnault!” Manuela pauses as the audience cheers, “Please keep the volume level to a minimum and enjoy the performance.”

The small orchestra they’ve assembled begins to play the overture and the ruby curtains are drawn. Reverent silence overtakes the hushed conversations as Dorothea is revealed. Maquillage immaculate, tresses coiffed, jewels embellishing her muted sage gown twinkling beneath the magically-fabricated spotlight, she breathes a sigh of relief. On the stage Dorothea can be the idealized version of herself; she can be someone else. 

The crowd isn’t large, perhaps thirty to forty seated in what are normally the Cathedral’s pews, but Dorothea sees herself in each and everyone one of them. She’ll give them everything she has in an attempt to brighten this dark day. Even if he isn’t here.

_ This meadow is my home _

_ Through centuries, through… eons  _

_ Alone _

_ I am the guid...ing light _

Though the audience likely doesn’t know any better, Dorothea can’t help but notice the tiny fractures present in her typically flawless performance. Manuela must as well, by the encouraging look she shoots as Dorothea momentarily flicks her gaze to stage left. Having her idol, nay savior’s support allows Dorothea to regain some composure and end the first song to her standards.  _ Alone. _ Maybe she just missed Felix, maybe he didn’t realize she reserved a seat for him; it’s somewhat difficult to see every face in the twilit chamber.

Luckily, the next piece is a duet between herself and Ferdinand, she won’t have to power through aria after aria. Ferdinand is actually quite magnetic as Loog, and Dorothea finds herself drawn into the emotion he is able to convey as his character pursues hers. 

_ Oh Maiden, let us be one _

A deep, passionate desire brought on by curse, the maiden nearly falls in love, but when she realizes this is the work of dark sorcery runs away. It's a scene so ingrained in Dorothea's repertoire that even as she pours her heart out, she’s still capable of scanning the audience, seeking that fluffy hood, that dark ponytail.  _ Alone. _

_ Together we a-are _

_ Together we must not be _

_ Wait! I implore you! _

_ Can’t you see that I adore you? _

_ Our love has never been true! _

Dorothea jerks her arm from Ferdinand’s grasp with a bit too much force, she’s burning within. Anger, pain, embarrassment, self-pity. It’s finally time for Dorothea's exit and she can’t get backstage fast enough, nearly tripping as she scurries off.

From the side of the stage, Dorothea fidgets with her necklace and watches the conclusion of their scene. Loog’s sword shines under the spotlight as he raises it high, steeling himself in preparation to confront the dark sorceress to be played by Manuela. The curtains descend on the now determined King as the intermission begins.

“That was incredible.” Ferdinand beams, “I can't believe I’m performing with such legends.” He's sweet, a bit pathetic and simpleminded, but sweet. As Dorothea has spent more time with Ferdinand, her hatred has actually transformed to respect and understanding. “Anything I can do to help you? I'll fetch some water.”

“That would be nice, Ferdie.” Dorothea is glad this will be over soon, she can’t wait to retire to her quarters and hopefully not be too sad tonight. Once Loog breaks the curse, she’ll act in his confession scene, then perform a final aria to convey her true love.

“You look beautiful, try to have some more fun out there,” Manuela says, “you've played this role plenty, you're perfect as the Maiden.”

“Thank you, I’ll do my best.” The show must go on, Dorothea is stronger than this.

There’s a short interlude between Loog defeating the sorceress and approaching the Maiden, and Dorothea returns to the right side of the stage. Ferdinand is a capable tenor, and he delivers the lyrics with a poise almost befitting a professional. Dorothea plays off of Ferdinand’s energy, posing dramatically in reaction to the love confession and promises his character is making to hers.

_ Oh Maiden, I know it’s true _

_ I’ve broken the curse _

_ and yet, I still love you _

As Dorothea turns toward Ferdinand she nearly gasps as she involuntarily scans the crowd; Felix is there, where he was supposed to be from the beginning. The finale needs to be one of her life’s greatest performances, even with her heart racing like this. Every time she faces the audience, Felix’s focus stays locked, never straying from Dorothea. No, it can’t be. This is definitely the wishful thinking of a selfish idiot.

Shrugging off her stupidity, Dorothea steps toward Ferdinand, placing her hand on his as she draws closer for their first of two on stage kisses. Ferdinand is warm, welcoming as she nears his lips for the chaste peck, she holds there for no longer than the allotted five seconds they’ve practiced. In the past, Dorothea may have improvised, run her hand through Ferdinand’s hair, given the audience that extra bit of fantasy, but it feels so forced today.

As she breaks from this kiss it is time for the finale, the aria of the Maiden of the Wind. Dorothea  _ will _ shine.

_ The king is free _

_ My heart is full _

_ For I’ve found the true love _

_ I’ve been missing so long _

_ The eons shall pass _

_ My love shall fall _

_ But for this moment _

_ I’m not alone _

Dorothea puts every ounce of her being into the final song, her confidence bolstered as she executes it perfectly. This is what Dorothea was meant to do, ever since the moment she first grasped Manuela’s hand in Enbarr. When Ferdinand pulls her into the ultimate dramatic, passionate kiss, Dorothea is finally comfortable enough to express herself. She kisses Ferdinand the way she would like to kiss Felix, shutting her eyes, holding him tight around his costume armor, until she is nearly breathless.

The audience applauds, some cheer  _ Dorothea! _ as the scene ends with this romantic exchange. Her overall performance could have been better, but in the times they are living in, even a few smiles from the downtrodden put Dorothea back at ease.

When the cast emerges to take their final bows, Dorothea notices Felix is  _ still _ staring at her, but immediately glances in another direction when she catches his eye. The crowd begins to funnel out of the cathedral, but Felix stands, waiting with arms behind his back.

“Give me a few,” Dorothea mouths before returning to the dressing area.

"You were great out there as always," Manuela says as she loosens Dorothea's corset, "I saw you struggle for a bit, but you pulled through. It's understandable during a war." Dorothea could tell Manuela it wasn't the war she was preoccupied with and likely get excellent, albeit jaded, advice, but time is of the essence.

"Let's discuss it over tea later," Dorothea suggests as she starts to dress in her usual gown, "there's someone I have to meet."

Manuela smiles a knowing smile, “Go get him.”

As Dorothea rounds the corner of the edge of the stage’s stairs she finds Felix. Though it is dusk, the large window behind the Cathedral’s altar keeps the chamber somewhat lit, the surrounding stained glass projects subtle rainbows onto the marble tile. It’s actually quite beautiful. Felix’s sharp features seem somewhat softened by the ethereal glow.

"You decided to make an appearance, after all." Dorothea kisses Felix on the cheek in greeting.

"I did." He brusquely shoves something toward her, “Take these.”

Noticing the bouquet of roses she’s now holding, Dorothea blushes. Hopefully it isn’t visible underneath the lighting circumstances and her makeup, “Are these… from you?”

“It’s customary to bring a gift.” Of course, it’s  _ customary. _ Felix has always been one to follow customs,  _ not. _ Dorothea’s lips curl into a small smile, she has him now. 

It’s refreshing that Felix doesn’t follow up with some cheesy line like  _ They remind me of you _ . He really doesn’t have to say anything, Dorothea already knows; this is far from the first bouquet she’s received. The quality of the flowers is excellent, not some pre-bundled nonsense one would find at a commoner’s market, but each individual rose is in the prime of bloom, the gorgeous fragrance is nearly overpowering.

“You know you were late,” she complains.

“I couldn’t show up empty handed.” 

“So, what did you think?”

“It was enjoyable. I can’t say I’m a fan of Loog, but I know that tale well from my brother.” 

"I meant what did you think about my performance?” Dorothea boldly employs a go-to flirting technique, stroking her hand softly along Felix’s forearm.

"You're... not bad," Felix states, averting his eyes. He must have loved it.

"Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” she teases.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, you know, just that you’re bad at saying how you really feel." Dorothea bites her lip and flutters her lashes.

“Let's just go,” Felix sighs, “you can tell me what else is wrong with me over tea.”

“How much time do you have?” Dorothea takes Felix by the hand and leads him to her room.

*

Dorothea hums as she heats up the water for tea with a small dose of Fire magic, being talented in Reason is advantageous for intimate tea parties, “Almyran pine needles again?”

“Whatever you want.”

“In that case, Sweet-Apple blend it is!” Felix doesn’t complain even though it's not to his taste, she’ll skip the sugar in compromise. Facing the lush roses now in a vase Dorothea has reserved for the many bouquets she receives, Felix sits, waiting. His hand grips the hilt of one of the swords propped up against Dorothea's desk.

“Here you go.” Dorothea places the tea cup down, then trails her hand along Felix’s fluffy hood as she takes a seat next to him. Orange-toned candlelight illuminates Felix’s handsome profile, Dorothea fights the compulsion to touch his hair. 

The tea is excellent, and the fresh apple aroma is even lovelier coupled with the intoxicating rose scent. It's embarrassing how giddy she is about the flowers, how much she craves being closer to Felix. The wooden chair creaks a bit as Dorothea rests her head on Felix’s shoulder.

Felix doesn’t budge, his eyes flick toward her, “That’s quite a lot of makeup.”

“It's so the audience can see me,” she explains. Dorothea could have probably removed it earlier while she was still backstage, but she didn't want to make Felix wait for her to reapply and definitely didn't want him to see her without any.

“You don't need it.”

“Ha, that's what you think.” Dorothea deflects, “I'm basically a Crest monster under here.”

Felix is quiet, it's so warm leaning against him. When they aren’t bantering, Dorothea can’t help but be overwhelmed by the thumping in her chest as she strokes her hand over his before letting it settle there. How can she be so comfortable yet uncomfortable at once?

“So, do you want to try again?” Dorothea attempts to cut through the suffocating silence.

“Try what?”

“Tell me what you really thought of my performance.” Dorothea prods along the fur lining of Felix’s glove and he removes it without comment. Nonverbal communication has thus far been the only way they have been able to express their connection. Though this isn’t the first time they’ve held hands, it’s always electrifying when Felix interlaces his fingers with hers. 

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Yes.” There’s no way she’ll miss this opportunity.

"Fine," Felix pauses, "you... It was beautiful. Everything about it. I was captivated." Dorothea can't stop herself from smiling. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I knew you loved it!” she gushes.

It’s cute how flustered Felix gets, “...I did.”

“Was that so hard?” Dorothea pushes up slightly from the chair to peck one of Felix’s adorable reddened cheeks. He smells so clean in contrast to the usual training grounds sweat.

Dorothea has planted so many small kisses on Felix, usually the only confirmation she received that he even liked them was the flush that crept over his face and the way his glance shifted before he began to stammer about swords. That’s why Dorothea is caught off guard when Felix turns toward her rather than away and suddenly feels his soft lips on hers.

After all of the expert flirting, it shouldn’t be that surprising, but Dorothea isn’t sure she’s even ready for this. Ready to have her affections returned, ready to be fulfilled. Her eyes widen and she scans the room: the flowers, the tea cups, the jewelry sticking out of her drawer, Felix’s eyes closed so close to hers, the texture of his skin. The deepening of Felix’s kiss makes Dorothea question everything she’s ever known.

Dorothea hesitates, unworthy, but Felix doesn’t seem to be breaking for anything, so maybe it’s okay to shut her eyes and follow his lead. Felix kisses like he fights: precise, urgent, hard. Her heart is pounding as she timidly begins to lick his lips. When Felix accepts, Dorothea can’t get enough of the fruitiness of the apple tea mixed with a savory quality as his tongue rolls over hers. She strokes through his dark hair, pulling him closer.

Felix releases Dorothea’s hand and fidgets next to her. Dorothea’s eyes flick open when Felix begins to knead at her chest. Felix’s tongue is in her mouth, his hand is on her breast. Is this really happening?

It’s almost difficult to withdraw from the intense kiss, Dorothea gasps, saliva trailing from her mouth, her lips throbbing. “Felix?”

“I want you.” Felix’s amber gaze cuts through her like a blade, leaving Dorothea even more breathless, “the real you.”

“You do?” Dorothea can understand the physical desire, but… the real her? She’s not sure why anyone would want that. Even though Dorothea knows she is gorgeous and talented, a diva adored by her fans, inside she’ll always be that orphan girl clothed in patchwork fighting to survive in the alleys of Enbarr.

“Don't be stupid.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” her voice drops. “You don’t know me.”

“I know that you’re strong.” 

For once, Dorothea is lost for words as Felix tilts her face and brings his lips back to hers. The kiss resumes at the same level of intensity; coming from almost anyone else it would be jarring, but from Felix it just makes sense. He never puts on pretenses, never plays games, his actions tell Dorothea everything, tell her how much he wants her. Felix really is one of the most unique people she’s met, so untainted by his noble status. Honest, even when it hurts.

Dorothea is almost drowning in the kiss, trying to keep up in a manner not unlike when they spar together. She doesn’t question why Felix is rubbing a thumb, hard, against her cheek, until he draws back, leaving her nearly panting, “What are you doing?” 

“Off.”

“Off?”

“The makeup. I’m not in the back of the audience.”

“Are you sure?” Dorothea gulps, she has been crafting an image of perfection and desirability ever since she can remember. Manuela is probably the only person in the monastery who knows what she looks like completely barefaced.

“I’ve seen you covered in blood, and you’re worried about some facepaint?” 

Even though Felix has a point, it takes almost everything out of Dorothea to say, “Okay.” Dorothea pulls out one of the small drawers at her desk and retrieves the oil and worn cloth she uses for makeup removal at the end of the day. “Let me get yours first,” she teases in an attempt to make herself less vulnerable. Felix rolls his eyes before Dorothea runs the rag over where her lipstick has smeared, a faint kiss mark on his cheek, a small mess around his lips. “Good as new.” As she brings the rag toward her face, Dorothea pauses before she begins to dab slowly.

“Do you want me to do it?”

“It’s fine,” she turns away from Felix as she rubs. The white cloth takes on a flesh toned hue as she scrubs off the multiple layers of stage makeup. Then the shimmering eye shadow, the kohl liner, her mascara, the rouge, the pink lipstick, even the mink eyelashes.

As Dorothea gradually lowers the cloth to reveal herself, so many memories of when she had been nothing, begging on the streets, drinking from drains come flooding back to her. Does she have any scarring? Redness? Maybe her eyes sparkle less bright. She finally lets it drop onto the desk as Felix tugs lightly. “Better.”

“You don't have to lie.”

“Tch. Just come here.” Felix grips her waist, practically forcing Dorothea into his lap, she assists his efforts. At first she’s worried, how heavy is she? How could she let him see her like this? But, in the darkness, what she looks like, who they are fades into oblivion. Only the feeling of their bodies pressed together, the soft wet sensation of their kiss, the sound of their lips sliding over each other fills the space.

Felix runs his hand through Dorothea’s hair, she tenses as his fingers descend, trailing over the exposed top of her breast. She can’t deny that she wants Felix, too. Has wanted him, ever since she started to realize how he was _ different _ . It will be even easier to do what she’s wanted to for so long if they are facing each other. Felix looks stunned when Dorothea repositions herself so she is now straddling him. Felix’s cock is hard, sitting flush against her tights.

“Felix...”

For a moment Felix says nothing, he seems hyper focused on her breasts, staring intently and beginning to fondle one in each hand. “Can I… Underneath?”

“Please do,” Dorothea breathes.

The fabric of her slip rustles as Felix’s hand dives beneath. Felix first attempts to palm Dorothea’s plump breast before stroking two fingers along her nipple. Dorothea squints her eyes at how good it feels, she’s getting wet as she grinds her stocking-clothed heat into him.

“Fuck, Thea.”

_ Thea? _ Felix never called her that before… it was typically  _ you _ , or something impersonal like that. Somehow, Dorothea never assigned a nickname for him either, even though it came so naturally to her for everyone else. Felie? Fe? Lix? Fifi? Nothing ever seemed to fit the man she has to admit she’s always dreamt of, Felix Hugo Fraldarius.

Dorothea has to bridge the gap between her lips and his, grasping the wooden chair, somewhat unintentionally guiding herself along Felix’s length as she lowers herself to kiss him again.

“Let me see you,” Felix says just before her mouth touches his. Though Dorothea’s dress is low-cut, Felix must be realizing that it’s actually quite difficult to remove, as the straps are attached to the ruffly, gemstone-embellished collar.

“You sure?” Dorothea tries to tease, but her voice quavers as Felix interrupts her by brushing a finger against her nipple.

“I am.”

“I like you like this, Felix,” she coos. Dorothea never imagined Felix would take control so readily when this finally happened. She will comply, but it’s oh so fun to play with him. Dorothea undoes her collar from behind, letting the front of her dress fall forward, but catches it  _ just _ before she is exposed. The frustrated look Felix shoots her is too satisfying. 

After enough hesitation and messing around Dorothea releases, her slip is already disheveled from Felix so her tits are fully revealed. It’s actually somewhat cold in the stone room, but his touch immediately warms Dorothea, emanating from each of the fingers now dragging along both of her breasts. Dorothea lets out an exaggerated moan, “Ohhh.”

Felix stops, furrowing his brow with an inquisitive expression on his face, “Are you okay?”

Dorothea hadn’t meant to respond as such, so unnaturally. There was a type of person who delighted in that kind of thing, namely nobles who met her at the end of her shows.

“Don’t fake it.” Dorothea frowns, looking toward the wall, disappointed in herself. Even when she’s getting what she’s yearned for for so long, she still acts so reprehensibly; Felix saw through it in a microsecond. “Hey.” Felix cups Dorothea’s chin, tilting her to face him, “It’s fine. I just want to hear you.”

Who knew Felix could be so gentle? Impatient and taciturn, yes, but gentle and caring? Even if he doesn’t know all of the details of Dorothea’s past, how connected she feels to Felix in this moment is enough for her to relax. Enough to let herself enjoy this.

“Okay,” she exhales. Felix takes it slower this time, placing his right hand back on her breast, tracing his thumb over her nipple before beginning to roll it between his fingertips. “That feels good.”

Felix’s hand caresses Dorothea’s exposed back as he pulls her toward him, the heat within her smallclothes pulses at the feeling of his cock rubbing against her and Felix’s soft tongue licking her neck. It’s divine, becomes even more divine when Felix utilizes his other hand and increases the pressure of his mouth. Whatever mark he’ll leave is worth it; it’s nothing Dorothea’s collar won’t cover up anyway.

Small moans escape Dorothea as Felix drags his tongue down the line of her neck, dipping into her collarbone, his hands halting their motion as he nears the top of her breast. Felix doesn’t tease like Dorothea does; he only traces the rounded flesh and licks into her cleavage because he  _ wants _ to. She is aching when Felix trails back to suck on her nipple, Felix must be too by the way he’s grinding his cock into her.

Felix takes his time, sucking on both of Dorothea's nipples in turn. The wet sounds, the ability to observe Felix: the dark hair, his striking features, the glimpse of his pink tongue twisting on her stiffened peak, the sensation itself is becoming too much. Dorothea’s so hot, squirming in his lap, all she can think of is having Felix inside of her. “Take me to bed, darling.”

Felix maintains the suction on her nipple for a second before releasing, “You're ready?”

“Yes.” Dorothea bites her lip, she is no virgin, but she can’t ignore the way her anxiety spikes when she considers what they’re about to do; to actually be getting this far with Felix so soon, to be able to make love to someone she actually  _ likes _ . A relationship where neither person is using the other for anything.

Before Dorothea can get stuck in a cycle of self-doubt, Felix lifts her up from his lap and off of the chair, carrying her the few feet required to lay her down on the bed. Dorothea is not surprised by Felix’s strength, but seeing it,  _ feeling  _ it in action turns her insides to jelly.

Felix is hovering over her now, leaning against Dorothea as he nudges her to recline on her own pillow. She spreads her legs slightly and shudders under Felix's body weight and his hard cock pressing between her thighs.

“I…” He starts.

“What?”

“I’ve wanted this.” Felix’s words are pithy, but so much more powerful than flowery language. “Just. Take it off. Show me. This corset… It's ridiculous.”

“Speak for yourself. Aren’t you hot?” Unclasping the metal hinge holding her outfit together, she lightly flings the corset to the floor, her red robe falls to either side of her body. Felix’s calloused fingers slide underneath and Dorothea arches her back to free her arms from the garnet outer layer. She lays back onto the garment, now clothed only in her displaced, strapless slip and semi-sheer stockings.

Felix yanks the chain of his cape, fumbles with the far too many buckles he’s wearing, then swiftly unbuttons his overcoat, even rolls down his tall boots before tossing everything to the side. After what seems like an eternity, Felix is on his knees above her, wearing his sleeveless turtleneck and tight,  _ tight _ teal leggings. Dorothea can't resist stroking along his length where she sees the outline straining.

Felix trembles as she touches him, “Fuck.”

“You’re gorgeous.” Felix really is. Even now, Felix blushes, shifting his head to the side as he grasps beneath his shirt. The ribbed top catches as he removes it, his ponytail is loosened, only bobbing slightly above his neck. Dorothea savors the sensation of her manicured hand running over Felix’s scarred abs. So well-defined, hard but lean, yet all is softened by the flush on his angular cheeks and his shiny hair. What Dorothea wouldn’t give to see it down.

“Take off the rest.” Dorothea has been so entranced by Felix, it takes her a moment to realize she’s still mostly clothed. Felix leans back to give Dorothea the space, “Go on.”

He must mean to watch her.

“Why don’t you help me?” Dorothea expects Felix to be embarrassed and stay where he is, but instead he grasps inelegantly at her stockings and begins tugging at them from her inner thigh. “You’ll rip them...” At first, Felix doesn’t stop, the fabric of the stocking becomes even more transparent as it stretches. Dorothea tenses in anticipation, it's enough to make her ache even more for him, but Felix lets the material snap back into place. She somewhat wishes he hadn't.

“Come on.” Yearning like this, Dorothea doesn’t need Felix to ask twice, she shimmies out of her dress, then her tights. Felix’s eyes are on Dorothea, just like when she was on the stage. When she’s finally in only her smallclothes, that same rosiness floods over his cheeks. How can Felix be so dominant, yet fall back to such adorable tendencies in a single breath?

“Don't be shy, you've already gotten this far.” Dorothea encourages Felix by grabbing his wrist and placing it on her left breast. He hesitates, but then seems overcome with lust as he starts to touch Dorothea again, pushing toward her, close enough that she can feel the strength of his desire, “Felix, I want you, too.” 

Loosening the tie as she threads her fingers through Felix's silky hair, Dorothea pulls him back into a kiss. Somehow it’s even more intense now, Felix is sucking on Dorothea’s tongue, on her lip. She’s shivering as he plays with her nipple, yet her mouth is overtaken by a searing heat, her pussy is begging to be touched.

Dorothea pushes up against Felix’s chest, it’s slightly painful when he releases her lip, “Fuck me.”

“You… Haven't come.” A look of shock forms on her face when he says it. It's true, but Dorothea is astonished Felix cares or even knows what that is.

“Hmm?”

“It's selfish.”

“Well, what are you going to do?”

Felix doesn't say anything at first, just lowers himself along Dorothea’s stomach and pushes her smallclothes down. “Do you have a problem with me eating you out?”

It's such uncouth phrasing, but it lights a fire within Dorothea that burns hotter than anything an alleged romantic could come up with would, “I don't… But have you done this before…?”

“I have.”

“With whom?” Now Dorothea is curious.

“It doesn't matter. Sylvain has dragged me to so many taverns I can't even count. When he leads with our Crests it's almost impossible to keep the women off.” Sylvain is so obsessed with his minor crest, but Felix could be so much worse with that major crest of Fraldarius. “This is the first time I've  _ wanted _ to do it out of something other than pity and disgrace, though.”

“Felix…” Dorothea has had so many awful experiences with people who thought of her only as The Maiden or whatever role she’d been playing that night, she can completely understand being desired for something that isn't yourself. At this point, the need to have Felix is more than a physiological response, it’s an expression of her deepest of dreams, a manifestation of a shared experience. A reminder that at least for right now, they have each other.

Dorothea lifts her hips, allowing Felix to fully remove her smallclothes. There is no introduction of kind, affectionate words, no _ I'm going to make you feel good _ , nothing, Felix just buries his face in her folds and starts to lick toward Dorothea’s clit with purpose. 

It's almost too much, too soon, Dorothea shudders at the pleasurable, yet sharp sensation coursing through her, “Not so fast—” Though Felix may have done this before, if he’s planning to make Dorothea come, he needs more than precision and urgency; he needs sensuality. Stroking through Felix’s inky locks, Dorothea whispers, “Careful. Softer, darling.” She breathes a sigh of relief when Felix takes her direction and swipes his tongue in a small arc over her clit. “Like that.”

Felix repeats the motion, causing Dorothea to throb, hot in her core. He’s focused as he laps at her folds, Dorothea inhales as she reaches up to twist at her nipple. Though Felix isn’t employing any expert technique or rhythm, Dorothea is already aching, she might be able to get close from this, though having something inside wouldn’t hurt, “Finger me.”

“So wet,” Felix breathes when he slips two fingers into her slit.

“Fuck, Felix,” Dorothea manages, wincing as he curls them inside of her and slick spills onto the linens. “Faster.”

Felix obeys, increasing the speed of his tongue, then presses against the sensitive wall of Dorothea’s cunt. She’d like to congratulate Felix on the rapid improvement, but she’s too busy keening; Dorothea can only utter, “Suck.”

The pressure of Felix's lips, the fingers plunging in and out of her, the beautiful partner she’s longed for; it’s all so perfect. Dorothea’s legs start to tremble, then shake, as her orgasm builds. Felix releases the suction, vibrating his tongue against her clit, and the low rumble becomes a quake.

“Felix!” Dorothea never thought that would be the name she’d be saying as she comes apart. A rush of ecstasy crashes over Dorothea as she writhes on the mattress. Felix keeps licking her throughout the duration, prolonging the sweet release. When he finally relents, Dorothea’s chest is heaving, her heart pounding, her whole body glistening with sweat, her pussy still spasming. Euphoria overtakes her being and Dorothea collapses onto the bed. 

It's been a while since she's come like this. Breathing heavily, confused, in love? Can either of them deny how well they match? A noble unbound who loves singing and swords; a dazzling opera star who has dreamt only of a comfortable life without societal obligation. She could never have anticipated meeting someone like this using that letch to enroll in the academy. An idealist could describe it as fate, but Dorothea won’t submit to such foolish musings. Luck is more like it.

“Come here.”

“You still want to fuck?” As Felix pushes up to support himself, over her on the mattress, he must notice what a state Dorothea is in: panting, chestnut curls in some unknown configuration, sheets soaked beneath. 

“Give me a moment,” Dorothea exhales, catching her breath as she nudges down Felix's leggings and smallclothes.

Goddess, Felix is stunning. The muscular torso, strands of long, dark hair falling forward over her, the sharp look in his eyes. His cock is so hard, the pink tip flushed, Dorothea strokes along it with a light hand. Dorothea would love to swallow it whole, watch Felix thrash on her linens, see the way he winces as she swirls her tongue. But her mind is still hazy from that natural high, waves of pleasure still lapping throughout her body; she can't do much but take him inside her.

Resting her hands on Felix’s back, Dorothea urges him toward her. He’s sweating, the familiar scent she’s come to associate with training with Felix is even more intoxicating in this context. Her tits, her stomach, her cunt, stick slightly along him as she arches up to lick Felix’s neck, captivated by the overpowering fragrance of Felix’s sweat and the ghost of a floral note hiding in his hair. There’s something about inhaling the sweet saltiness that awakens a primal energy in Dorothea, something that tells her to let Felix have her, all of her.

“Make love to me.”

A spark flickers behind Felix’s eyes as he proceeds to swipe his cock over her mound, Dorothea trembles as it touches her slit. Wedging a hand between them, he spreads Dorothea open, pushing into her slowly, rather than fucking her with abandon as she might expect. Dorothea's heart races as her pussy stretches gradually around each inch of Felix’s length until he’s fully sheathed within.

“Fuck, it’s warm.” Felix squints, “you want me to pull out, right?”

Though Dorothea always takes the necessary precautions, she’d typically ask for it out of principle. But the thought being filled with Felix’s seed, letting it seep out of her even after he’s gone… Hanging onto that small trace of Felix when she inevitably finds herself alone again is all she could hope for, “You don’t have to.”

“Thea?” Felix stares directly into her eyes, questioning, craving.

“I want you to…” Dorothea breathes, “I’ve taken my herbs.”

Felix’s cock twitches within Dorothea, “If you're sure.”

Complete. It’s the only word to describe what it’s like to have Felix rock into her. He has tended to Dorothea, and she’ll make sure this is the best he’s ever felt. Involuntary moans echo from each of them through the small room as Dorothea bucks her hips to meet Felix’s, she deliberately clenches her pussy around him.

“Fuck,” he groans, “that's not fair. I'm already--” Felix wants to savor this. She smiles softly when she realizes this isn’t only about release for him, it’s about their connection. Dorothea surrenders to Felix and all he’ll give her.

“You're--” Felix sighs, then lowers his voice to nearly a whisper, right next to Dorothea’s ear, “beautiful.” The combination of such words coming from Felix and the physical sensation of his breath brushing past her sends shivers up Dorothea’s spine. “So tight.” He picks up the pace, grunting as he ruts harder, pulling almost completely out of Dorothea before filling her again. 

With Dorothea’s pussy so drenched, so slippery, it’s not unexpected that Felix would slide out of her after attempting such dramatic motions. “Fuck.” Rather than blush and look away, the dominant Felix takes over, lifting himself off of Dorothea. The supple flesh of her thighs dimples beneath his fingertips as he raises her legs so she is nearly bent in half, “Is this okay?”

“It's more than okay.” This is one way for Felix to keep her where he wants her, and Dorothea can’t help but ache, taken over by her basest needs, when he handles her like this. “Fuck me, Felix.”

From this angle, Felix’s cock is as deep inside Dorothea as it can be, every stroke causes her to wince and mewl as she rakes her nails down his back.

“The-a,” he inhales sharply.

“Felix!”

“Your tits look good,” Felix strains to say, “bouncing like that.” Felix shuts his eyes and grits his teeth. “Fuck, I’m close.”

“Look at me, darling.” Dorothea lowers her hands, grasping her breast, as Felix pumps, faster. “Look at me when you come.”

Felix’s eyes open wide to stare at Dorothea. She puts on a small show, reveling in the pleasurable jolts that shoot through her as she pinches her nipple and Felix's cock hits into her.

“Fuck.” Overcome by the carnal desire to have Felix spill inside, Dorothea contracts around him again, knowing it’ll absolutely send him over the edge. And it does.

Thrusting into Dorothea erratically, Felix’s face is completely flushed, his muscles tight, his fingers digging hard into her thighs as he empties within her. Felix’s amber eyes don’t leave hers once; seeing Felix undone like this is everything she’s wanted and more. When he rolls to her side, Felix is possibly panting even harder than Dorothea was after she came.

Dorothea’s heart pounds when she reaches to hold his hand. It’s unfamiliar; a happiness like this, one that lightens everything it touches.  _ Can’t you see that we’re perfect together? _ Dorothea tries to work up the nerve to say it, but all she can manage is, “I’d better go clean this up.”

Sitting up from the bed, Dorothea attempts to collect her slip from the floor, but Felix clutches her wrist, “Wait.”

“Felix?”

Felix closes his eyes as he pulls Dorothea into another kiss, the gentlest they’ve had thus far. Tongue lightly caressing hers, lips only pursing softly as their hearts thump against each other. Maybe it isn’t the time to express their feelings explicitly, maybe it won’t ever be. But maybe they don’t, maybe they won’t need to.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, feel free to let me know what you think!
> 
> This quarantine has been mad, but I'm glad I was able to finish this.
> 
> Come say hi on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/fraldariuwus)


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